


It Must be Winter in my Heart

by Harishe



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Banter, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Winterhawk Wonderland Gift Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harishe/pseuds/Harishe
Summary: It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?For the WinterHawk Wonderland Gift Exchange Event!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45
Collections: Winterhawk Wonderland - 2020 edition!





	It Must be Winter in my Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jazzrose343](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzrose343/gifts).



> The prompt: _Bucky and Clint doing loads of cliche holiday stuff together and appear like a couple even when they are not. Can be either pining it oblivious and ends with them getting together._
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta, who made this mess legible. You're always appreciated.

The first time it happened, it was an accident. Clint had been walking around New York, idly checking out the brightly lit holiday displays in the shop windows. He’d been forced to take a few days off after his last mission, the bandages covering him offering enough of an explanation. With nothing to do but sit at his apartment, he decided to get a cup of coffee and find a meandering path through the city.

The last person he’d thought he’d encounter along the way would be Bucky fucking Barnes, though. When Clint spotted him, he was staring into a shop window, hands in his pockets, not really seeing anything. Clint did his best to announce his approach, scuffing the bottom of his boots as he walked towards the other man.

Bucky glanced at Clint from the corner of his eye, but remained still otherwise. “You look like hell,” he muttered softly.

Chuckling, Clint tilted his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well the old adage of ‘look before you leap’ is one that I’ll remember eventually.” He looked up at Bucky through his lashes as he spoke. “What’s got you out in the real world? Don’t you usually have some little bomb shelter you like to hole up in?”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky snorted. “Is that the best you can come up with? A bomb shelter?” Bucky replied tersely. 

Laughing again, Clint turned to face the shop front, their shoulders nearly brushing as they stood side by side. “Man, I wouldn't put it past you.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the large toy train wind its way through the winter-scape that had been meticulously laid out in order to give passerby's a fresh sense of whimsy and warmth.

An elderly couple walked behind them on the sidewalk, holding hands. “Oh, Walter, look at them. They look so handsome together.” The woman hadn’t even tried to whisper her observation to her husband.

Clint could feel his face heating up. Glancing at Bucky, he thought he saw a flush creep over the other man’s cheeks as well, but it could’ve been the colored lights twinkling in front of them.

The next time it happened, Clint had actually asked Bucky to come along. Everyone else on the team was occupied with one thing or another. Regardless, Clint really wanted another pair of hands to help him get a Christmas tree into his apartment. He still hadn’t fixed the elevator, so traversing multiple flights of stairs while carrying a tree on his own didn’t sound too appealing.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Clint waited at the front of the small tree lot where he’d already picked out and paid for his tree. It was already a quarter past and Bucky still hadn’t shown, which wasn’t like him. If he said he was going to do something, he usually did it.

Sighing heavily and hunching his shoulders, Clint idly kicked a few stray rocks across the lot.

“You look like a dejected little kid.” Bucky chuckled when his approach startled Clint.

“I gotta look like a dejected _big_ kid, at least,” Clint retorted, flicking his head slightly to move the end of his Santa hat out of his eyes.

Bucky didn’t reply, just gestured with his elbow for Clint to lead the way. Frowning that their banter was already done with, Clint showed Bucky through the lot to get started on moving it home.

They didn’t have any issues until they reached the inside stairs of Clint’s apartment building. They felt narrower now, or maybe it was just the net covered branches tickling Clint’s face as they tried to figure out the best angle to get past this particular bend.

“Pivot! Pivot! Pivot!” Clint couldn’t help himself from saying it. It was only made better when Bucky actually yelled back that he _was_ pivoting. Clint nearly dropped his end of the tree, his laughter was so raucous. When Bucky glared at him, oblivious to the reference, it only made Clint laugh harder.

They’d reached the fourth floor when Clint noticed a line had formed impatiently behind them. Poking his head out to the other side of the tree, Clint whispered to Bucky, “Hey, any way you use that robo-arm to speed this up?”

Bucky paused to glare at him. “Look, you asked for my help and I’m giving it. I can do without the wisecracks.”

To the amusement of the growing crowd, they continued to bicker, struggling with the tree as they went.

Their words were just starting to get really heated with a small voice broke through their chatter.

“Mommy, these guys are fighting that old tv show you watch. Y’know, the black and white one with the pow! To the moon?”

Oh great, they were getting compared to _The Honeymooners_. Groaning, Clint did his best to glare at Bucky, who just shoved the tree into him, forcing him to sit on the stairs behind him.

The kid and a few others laughed at their antics. One person even called out that they should wait to get into the bedroom before giving each other looks like that. It was apparently what the crowd needed to start their own commentary on their ‘relationship’.

They got up the remaining flights of stairs in record time.

The third time it happened, they were basically asking for it. It was a week or so after Bucky had helped him get the tree into his apartment. Once the decorations had finally gone onto it, Clint felt he should fill the bottom up with poorly wrapped gifts.

He was now entering the fourth store, trying to find something that Natasha might like, when he literally ran into Bucky. 

“Oh, hey man, I’m really sorry…” Clint’s apology faded to nothing once he realized who he was talking to.

“Can’t I have one trip into the city without running into you?” Bucky griped.

“You say that as though: a) I plan it and b) you don’t actually _want_ my amazing company,” Clint quipped back.

Bucky muttered something under his breath as he transferred his shopping bags to his other hand.

“Look, it’s kind of unfair to say things low enough that you know I can’t hear them,” Clint berated him.

Shifting his weight from one foot, it seemed as though Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. “I said that your company isn’t amazing and that I wouldn’t put it past you to actually plan something like this,” he grit out.

Affronted, Clint held his hand to his chest and said, “Well, someone has their rude panties on today. And here I was, about to suggest that since we’re both obviously shopping for gifts, that we help each other out.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, hold on. Why would you want to help me?”

“Mostly cause I’m pretty much just shopping for Nat at this point, and you can actually help with that,” Clint said smoothly.

Nodding, Bucky gave him a steely look. “Okay, I’ll give it a try, cause I need help with a gift for Steve, but the second you start with your tomfoolery, we’re done.”

Laughing, Clint held out his hand. “Tomfoolery? Are you kidding me? Nobody says that.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Bucky reached behind Clint for the door handle. “I say it, and that’s enough of that already. I’ll be able to find something on my own,” he said as he pulled on the door.

Chuckling awkwardly, Clint pressed his foot up against the door, preventing it from opening further. “Hold on a second. Gimme another chance. I really need to find something for Nat,” he pleaded.

There was a tense moment where neither man moved, the door still slightly ajar, dousing them in icy air.

Finally, Clint shifted his weight, allowing the door to move freely. “I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised, using his finger to draw a small ‘x’ over his chest. “Promise.”

The last word hung between them for a moment before Bucky opened the door completely and held up a hand to cut off Clint’s inevitable whining. “There’s nothing she’d like here, might as well move on to another store.”

They made their way through a number of stores, successfully finding a gift for Steve. Currently, the two of them were bent over a counter display case with delicate jewelry inside, bickering over what would suit Natasha better.

“No, look, if I get her that one, it can double as a weapon when she’s on missions,” Clint said, exasperatedly.

Bucky tapped his finger on the glass directly over a small arrow charm. “If you think she’s going to wear a gift on a mission, you’re crazy. This makes way more sense for you to give her.”

They continued their argument for a few more minutes before a young woman that had been standing nearby turned to them. “Hey guys, would it help to have a woman’s opinion?” she offered.

Both men looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. It wasn’t as though they could get opinions from just anyone on something for Natasha.

The woman chuckled and looked into the case without an answer. “I know it can be difficult to find just the right thing when giving a gift as a couple.”

“Wait—”

“Oh, but we’re not…”

Ignoring or not hearing their overlapping denials, she tapped the glass over a long chain that looped through itself with pointed charms on both ends. They’d dangle unevenly in the middle of the chest once arranged.

Hurriedly, Clint purchased all three pieces. He’d have time to decide which one later. As soon as he and Bucky were back on the sidewalk, they walked away from each other without even saying their goodbyes.

The last time it happened, it was the day before Christmas Eve. Clint had gone out to pick up a few things and cut through a nearby park. He’d barely gotten two steps in before spotting Bucky sitting on a lone bench. The light snowfall kept Clint from seeing what exactly he was doing, but hopefully it kept him from spotting Clint standing at the entrance to the park.

Slowly, Clint crept back to avoid being seen. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Once out of view, he hid his bags in a bush and started packing a few snowballs. He’d have to assume that Bucky was still sitting on the bench, unaware of what was about to come his way.

Grinning maniacally, he made his way to different points, leaving small piles of projectiles in his wake. When he’d built a sufficient arsenal, he picked up a few snowballs and began lobbing them over the crest of bare branches before quickly moving to his next vantage point. 

He hadn’t even made it to his next stash when he heard the satisfying dull impact thump followed with grunts and curses. Stifling giggles, Clint tossed more over the dying greenery, despite knowing it wouldn’t actually hit Bucky. There’s no chance he wouldn’t immediately start searching for his attacker.

Before making it to his third weighpoint, a glint of metal caught in Clint’s peripheral, making him pause. Apparently it was all the time Bucky needed though, if the snowball slamming into the side of Clint’s head was any indication. It hit hard enough to make Clint stumble and sent one of his hearing aids flying, immediately disappearing into the snow.

“It’s cheating if you use your cyborg arm!” Clint shouted in the direction the snowball had come from. Only being able to hear from one side was going to make the battle much more interesting.

As expected, Clint got no response, so he kept moving to his next target. He snatched up a few of the premade snowballs and worked his way into some of the denser foliage for cover. Grinning, he hunkered down and waited for Bucky to pass.

Minutes later, Clint still hadn’t spotted his target, making him wonder if he’d left. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility with Bucky. Clint had barely begun to turn to work his way back out of the shrubbery when something yanked him backwards through the branches and into the snow by his collar. His yelp muffled by a fistfull of snow being smashed into his face and mouth.

Now laying on his back in the snow, sputtering out a bit that started melting, Clint looked up to see Bucky grinning down at him. There was a feral edge in the way he held his mouth, sending a shiver down Clint’s spine that had nothing to do with the snow that had worked its way into his clothes.

“You’re not very quiet for the _World’s Greatest Marksman_ ,” Bucky said evenly.

Giving his best lopsided grin in return, Clint chuckled. “And you were horribly unaware for a cold blooded assassin,” he retorted, and quickly tossed a handful of loose snow in Bucky’s direction before rolling away.

Bucky had raised an arm to shield his eyes, but was otherwise unfazed by the time Clint had gotten to his knees. They stared at each other for a few long moments before simultaneously springing into action.

Both men sprinted towards the bench Bucky had been seated at earlier, scooping up fistfuls of snow as they went. Now with the additional, if flimsy, barrier of the bench between them, Clint and Bucky took turns throwing and dodging projectiles, Bucky with a look of intense concentration, and Clint a broad grin.

They traded hits back and forth for a number of minutes, before Bucky’s arm stuttered to a halt mid-throw. His brows knit together in confusion as he stared at his prosthetic. Clint rose from his protective crouch to get a better look. It seemed that the cold weather had hindered the machinery in the arm.

Clint cautiously approached, watching as Bucky attempted to force the prosthetic down by his side with his other arm.

“You should know better than to trust that Stark trash,” Clint said, stopping when he was just out of arm’s reach.

Bucky turned to glare at him, exposing the frozen arm. “Just help me get it back into a less ridiculous position,” he growled out. “Please.”

Dropping the snow in his hands with a huff, Clint stepped in closer to get a better look. He couldn’t see anything wrong with it from the outside, but everyone knew that he and technology didn’t necessarily mix.

Clint had barely laid hands on the cold metal when the world suddenly tilted in a flurry of snow. Blinking, he found himself looking up, Bucky’s grinning face filling his entire field of vision.

“Oldest trick in the book, Barton,” Bucky teased down at him, raising his prosthetic hand to flex and twist between them.

“You bastard!” Clint exclaimed, incredulous. “You were _faking_ it the whole time?”

Placing his prosthetic hand back on the ground next to Clint’s head, Bucky chuckled. “You know to use every tool to your advantage,” he whispered softly, his warm breath puffing against Clint’s cheek, leaving it colder than before and leaving goose bumps in its wake.

“Every tool, huh?” Clint breathed out.

Nodding, Bucky shifted his knee that sat between Clint’s legs. He hadn’t even realized he’d spread his legs. Staring up at Bucky’s cold flushed face and slightly parted lips, an awful, possibly terrible idea struck him.

Before he could come up with numerous reasons why not and before Bucky could stop him, Clint leaned up and pressed his lips to Bucky’s.

He could feel the heat from the other man and the small gasp that he ate up. Clint felt Bucky's cold, metal fingers wind into the short hairs on the back of his head, pressing the snow into his scalp, urging him on. 

With Bucky's lips parted as they were, Clint took the opportunity to taste them with the tip of his tongue, getting a hint of chocolate. 

Bucky's hips ground into his own, begging for more. His length ground against Clint's, making him exhale shakily. 

It was too warm, and too cold simultaneously. The flush on his cheeks, the melting snow that had worked its way into his clothing, the searing heat of Bucky's lips moulding over his own. 

The conflicting sensations were creating a heady mixture, making it difficult for Clint to catch his breath. He dug his fingertips into the crest of Bucky's hips, and fought the groan that threatened to escape him. 

With only the small crunch of snow as a warning, Clint was ripped from the heated kiss by a glob of snow smacking into the side of his face. Both men sputtered, searching for a place to focus their irritation.

A teenage boy stood on the other side of the bench, shifting his backpack slung over his shoulder. "Bros, not cool. Get a room," he sneered, kicking snow in their direction before walking off.

Bucky climbed to his knees and scooped up a sizable heap of snow, quickly packing it into a tight ball. Clint grabbed his elbow as he cocked it back to hurl at the unsuspecting child.

“C’mon man, he’s just a kid,” Clint reasoned. “It’s not like he actually hurt the big bad Winter Soldier or anything.”

Both men watched the kid as he stalked off, before simultaneously breaking into a fit of giggles.

Clint ran his hand through his hair and shifted his hips in the snow. "I'm gonna have to change my underwear after all this lounging in the snow. Wanna help me out with that?" he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Scoffing, Bucky climbed off of Clint and back up to his feet, fixing him with a flat look. “No,” he said and Clint’s cocky expression faltered, “but I will help you get out of them.”

Still hung up on the whiplash from Bucky’s statements, it took Clint a moment to grab hold of the extended hand and haul himself upright.

“Okay then, I hope you’re not allergic to dogs,” Clint said merrily, turning to retrieve his bag and hearing aid.

Bucky watched Clint bend over to collect his stuff, took one last considering look at the retreating back of the teenager, and hunched his shoulder as he followed after Clint. They sure as hell would need a room after all that.

**Author's Note:**

> I just need everyone to know that I am _not_ a Friends fan, but who can refuse an opportunity like that?
> 
> Leave me comments! Or message me directly! I promise, I don't bite.
> 
> Yo! I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/harishe-art) Come take a look!
> 
> I'm also on discord! Harishe#6556


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